Meet the Nelsons
by moms5thchild
Summary: This is my version of where one of the strongest friendship in comic books began.
1. Chapter 1

To all the people who have seen my fanfic else where, I say hello. I started reading Dare Devil comics in 1969, and kept reading them until 1989, when my nasty ex-husband sold them. I missed the stories terribly but vowed I'd never read them again because it hurt too much.

Well, Alice! You have changed my mind. I had forgotten just how much fun and entertainment I got out of all those comic books. So, when you suggested I write a Dare Devil fic, I went straight to you for inspiration and guidance. That is why I dedicate this to you and hope you like it.

**Meet the Nelsons**

Chapter one

Franklin Nelson

Attorney at Law

Oh, that would look so good on a business card. Foggy Nelson tried another variation on his signature.

Franklin Nelson BA LLD

No, this did not have the impact of the words. Attorney at Law; these were strong expressive words that told the world of his chosen profession, the law.

Sitting at his desk Foggy checked out his new home. He was in residence and he had actually managed to beat his roommate to the place. So, he got to pick which half of the room he would reside in and Foggy took the window side. He loved the view of the Columbia campus; the green quad, the gardens and statues screamed tradition and continuity. It was so different from the high rises he had grown up in. Someday he would live house like his grandfather's on Long Island, where all the walls were his and not shared by the neighbours all around him. He didn't care if he had to commute, that was all part of his life plan and until something happened to make him change his mind he was keeping to it.

Still, until the wife and the 1.3 kids showed up there was a roommate to deal with. When Foggy signed up for residence all he asked was that he be paired with someone in the same course of study. He couldn't imagine being paired with a philosophy major or, even worse, an actor. Foggy wanted someone he could talk to and maybe bounce ideas off and he couldn't see that with… an actor.

He got up and circled the room. He had his books arranged on the shelf over his desk. Pens and pencils were jammed in a can beside a stack of yellow legal pads. Foggy had a portable typewriter but he was saving up for a personal computer. This was his springboard to the future and he actually bounced up and down on his toes as if he were on a diving board getting ready to take the great leap.

That was when the door crashed open, bringing Foggy back to the here and now with a jerk. In walked a huge man with bulging muscles and a broken nose, a fighter. The man had two suitcases under one arm, a box and a typewriter under the other and a duffle bag slung across his shoulder.

"Hello, kid." The man's gravelly voice boomed at Foggy, "Jack Murdoch here."

"Franklin Nelson," he replied as he stumbled over his feet. He couldn't believe it; Foggy had watched this man win his last fight by a TKO just last night. "You're Battlin' Jack Murdoch. I won fifty bucks when you took out that punk last night."

"I'll give ya another fifty if ya tell me where to drop this stuff." The man scanned the room and dropped everything on the empty bed. "Here… right? This is Mattie's bed?"

"Yeah," Foggy tried to look past the boxer trying to catch a glimpse of his roommate, but 'Mattie' was not there. "Where is he?"

"My boy's gettin the grand tour of the place, so's I get to talk to you, private like, ya know," The man settled on the bed and toed a pair of Foggy's shorts that had missed the laundry hamper. "This ain't gonna do. Ya gotta pick up after yourself. I am gonna be very unhappy if I gotta go to the emergency room cause my boy's tripped over your stuff. And ya gotta remember to shut all your drawers all the time and keep door either all the way open or all the way closed. And ya gotta leave Mattie's stuff exactly where he left it. Don't go pickin up after him, he can take care of himself but don't be a slob yourself, unnerstand?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Foggy tried to sound like he understood everything the man said.

"Good." Murdoch eased up on the kid a bit as he studied the cramped space that was going to be his son's home for the year. "Ya know; you're a good kid. Not many guys would want someone like Matt for a roommate." Looking at the kid straight on Jack realized that Foggy didn't have a clue as to why he was getting read the riot act. "Ya got no idea what's goin' on, do ya?"

Foggy shrugged and sat on his bed. He figured an explanation was finally coming.

"Verbal, ya gotta be verbal. Say when ya come in and go out and answer with words, not shrugs or nods. Kid, ya wrote ya didn't care what kinda roommate ya got, right?"

"As long as our studies were compatible," the young man replied.

"We'll, my boy's taking law, just like you."

"Are you bragging about me again, Dad?"

Both heads turned to the new arrival standing in the doorway. He was tall, over six feet but with the long, lean look of a gymnast and not the bulging biceps of a boxer. There was the same red hair, minus the grey and the same crooked smile but this nose was not broken like his father's and a pair of dark glasses hid his eyes. The dark glasses and a long white cane explained Jack Murdoch's interrogation. His son was blind.

Well, at least Matt Murdoch wouldn't be annoyed about missing the view.

"Hello, I'm Franklin Nelson," Foggy said as he rose and approached Matt Murdoch for the first time, "but my friends call me Foggy." He lightly touched the back of Matt's right hand and shook it when Matt held it forward.

"Matthew Murdoch, but only my dad calls me Mattie." He smiled in the direction of Foggy. "You can call me Matt."

"Well, well, well;" Battlin' Jack Murdoch liked this kid and the easy way he welcomed his son. "This is just like Bogey said in that movie. This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, Alice... Zam... Pow.. right to the second installment. BTW, I hope no one was looking for Ricky and David when they started this story.

**Meet the Nelsons**

Chapter Two

Foggy staggered in to the room, dropped his gym bag by the door and made a bee line for his bed.

"Torts, Foggy," Matt said as he put his gym bag on the end of his bed. "We need to go over the torts assignment before dinner."

"Then you shouldn't have taken me on that five mile sprint on the jogging track. I am in pain," he moaned as the toed off his running shoes.

Matt pulled his sweat stained running gear out of his bag. "You were the one that wanted to, and here I quote, 'do some exercise to clear my head,' end quote."

"I was thinking more like a gentle jog, not a four minute mile… five times!" Foggy watched as Matt put his dirty clothes in the old duffle that hung on his closet door, head to his desk and manage to avoid the gym bag dumped so unceremoniously in the middle of the room. Lately Foggy had noticed Matt didn't trip over stuff that was out of place. Hell, he been testing his roommate and new friend and he almost believed Matt was fooling the world and could see… that is until he looked at the scarred, opaque eyes that turned ever so slightly to the left. There was no way light made it in through those cataracts. "Okay, I'll get my notes out and listen to the lecture that Cindy taped for you." He smirked as he levered himself out of the bed. "I do like the fact all you're readers are female, all coming over here to do a good deed. It's like a bountiful buffet of beauties just waiting to be admired."

Matt threw his pillow towards Foggy's voice, "Come on, be nice. They're here to earn a little money, not be your date smorgasbord."

"Can a guy help it, all these girls showing up and getting disappointed when you don't ask them out? Hey, I know I'm not their first choice but I am here to pick up the pieces of their broken hearts."

"Torts, Foggy," Matt reiterated as he pulled out the taped lecture and his Braille writer to make notes.

"Telephone," Foggy shot back brightly as he dived for the ringing machine. "Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law, how may we help you?" He sounded as if he had been practicing that phrase for some time. "Oh, hi Dad… no, everything is alright… actually I was out running with my roommate, Matt... yes Dad, I was actually exercising. No, we're about to review today's lecture on torts. Yes Matt is a good influence… yes. Dad, I was really running… yes Dad… yes Dad…yes Dad… Bye Dad."

"I'm a good influence?" Matt chuckled as he slipped the cassette into the recorder. "I'm just a poor boy from Hell's Kitchen pulling myself up by my bootstraps."

"Who said that?"

"Marci, one of my readers, she's the one with the southern accent and the old money education."

"Yeah, I'm taking her to dinner and a movie on Saturday." Foggy crowed as he finally dragged himself to his desk.

Matt looked almost smug. "Oh, because I'm taking her to Shakespeare in the Park on Friday night, it's cheap but culturally edifying." He started to laugh at the groan from the other side of the room.

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Edward Nelson and his wife, Sarah, decided it was time to meet their son's roommate. It wasn't as though they were snobs, oh no, never snobs. The Nelsons were quietly involved in many charitable and cultural endeavors in the city and weren't afraid of hands on involvement. When cleaning up the banks of the Hudson or assisting in soup kitchens one just couldn't get down and dirty in the trenches and be a snob. Still, this was his only son and Edward Nelson decided he just couldn't be too careful, so he had Matthew Michael Murdock investigated. What he found would have made Charles Dickens reach for a pen. The young man had lost his mother as a toddler, lost his sight saving an old man from a out of control truck and managed to achieve one of the highest graduation marks in the New York City public school system and a full scholarship to the college of his choice. Matthew Murdock was tall, handsome, and athletic and didn't realize just how exceptional he was. The private eye Nelson had hired said it was Matt's prize fighter father who kept the lad on track and humble. When Nelson saw what his peers were doing to their children, turning them into spoiled, parasitic wastrels he knew he had to do something different with Franklin and his roommate would only help lead his son to be a productive member of society. So far Nelson's plans seemed to coming to fruition. Foggy was a good boy, with a terrible nickname.

It was eight on a cold November Saturday when Edward and Sarah made their way to their son's room. They were almost giddy because the Nelsons thought they would be waking the boys up early. What self respecting college freshman didn't party the weekend before the Thanksgiving holiday? Sarah smiled as she put her ear to the door.

"Are they snoring?" Edward whispered.

"I can't tell," she batted his hand away from the door knob. "We should have called first. What if they sleep in the… altogether?"

"You mean in the nude," Edward nudged his wife gently. Sarah had lived a sheltered life with very puritanical parents. Never had a curse word ever escaped her lips, yet he had seen her separating drugged out prostitutes in a Bowery mission and never blinking an eye at the profanity that filled the air. "Or maybe in the same bed?"

"Edward J. Nelson, that is just perverse. You know my boy is all boy." Sarah asserted herself up and was about to knock on the door when it opened and Foggy puller her inside.

"Mom, Dad, I heard you out there. What are you doing here?" Foggy pulled them inside and steered them through the small space. "I know this is a free weekend, but I though you were going to the Hamptons."

"Oh, the same old crowd doing the same old things, I am getting tired of the bridge and backgammon set." Sarah seated herself on Foggy's desk chair. "I want to meet your roommate. Where is he?"

"Matt's already at the library, he's picking up some work that's been transcribed for him." Foggy pulled Matt's desk chair out for his father. "Don't tell me you're here to interrogate him?"

"Franklin, we wouldn't do any such thing," Edward cuffed his son's shoulder. "Actually, we're here to warn him about what a slacker you are." He looked around the shared space. "You seemed to have learned to pick up after yourself."

"Well, when you get Battling Jack Murdock threatening you to keep your room clean or else… you keep your room clean."

"What's he like, son." Sarah leaned forward so she could take her boy's hand.

"Jack Murdock isn't someone I'd ever cross…"

"No, I mean his son, Matthew."

"Matt's alright, he works hard for everything he gets and makes me work hard too."

"But Franklin, you're not lazy or stupid. You don't get a 3.9 grade point average unless you know what you're doing."

Then the door to the dorm swung open and Matt Murdock heard three heart beats inside the room. Acting as if he didn't detect the people there Matt went through his arrival routine. "Hi Foggy," he said as he placed his white cane beside the doorframe. "The weather is getting colder everyday." He carefully stepped to his desk and put his knapsack on the top and reached for his chair, which was now out of place.

"Matt, we have company," The Nelsons rose and approached the young man. "My Mom and Dad decided to drop in… unannounced." Foggy gave a nasty little twist to that word.

"Edward Nelson," he said as he took Matt's extended hand, "and my bride, Sarah." Nelson moved the boy's hand to Sarah's so she could give him a short but warm handshake.

"Pleased to meet you, at last," Matt smiled to the couple.

"We were thinking the same thing," Edward voice was a little louder than necessary. Foggy was beginning to notice this happened a lot when people talked to Matt, as though equating blindness with deafness. "I was thinking of taking you both out for dim sum. All those dumplings and some congee make one wonder why bacon and eggs ever came into style."

"Dad," Foggy didn't want to sound whiney, but he couldn't help it, "I wish you had called first. Matt and I have something to do today and it will probably take all day."

"Yes," Matt broke in, "Foggy has joined me with the homework club at Old St. Patrick's Church. We help high risk teens with their assignments and try to keep them in school. They're expecting us there at nine."

Sarah beamed, "Franklin, you never told us you were involved with community work. I'm so proud of you."

"Matt suggested it," Foggy was embarrassed by his mother's happy, glistening eyes. "It also helps having extra curricular activities here."

"Well, I'll tell you what, why don't you bring Matthew over to spend Thanksgiving with us. We would love to have you both join us." Sarah looked the Murdock boy up and down. She was sure there were some clothes she could lay her hands on to replace the shabby things Matt was wearing.

"I was actually going to spend Thanksgiving with my father."

"Would he come too?" Sarah wasn't about to be denied a new improvement project. "We always have much too much food there and the house has more than enough room for company."

"Yes, I would definitely enjoy meeting a boxing phenomenon. He makes us old men believe we can do anything." Edward's voice made Foggy winch with embarrassment.

"I'll call him and ask." Matt hoped his Dad would say no, but he couldn't be sure.

"Well. It's as good as settled. We'll arrange a driver to pick you all up on Wednesday night." Sarah smiled at the roommates. "This will be so much fun."

"Oh, it's just going to be a riot." Foggy moaned as his parents hugged him and headed out.

"Franklin, are you ready to roll," quipped Matt as he turned and reached for his white cane.

"Murdock, could you just kill me before Thursday, okay," Foggy just couldn't picture what Thanksgiving would be like when the Nelsons met the Murdocks.


	3. Chapter 3

Meet the Nelsons 3

Jack Murdock tugged at his collar again. It was too tight. All the work outs, the pumping iron and sparring had bulked him up a lot more than he wanted. He really needed new clothes, but his manager kept him on a tight budget and any extra cash went for Matty. His son needed so much more than the scholarships covered. The Lighthouse for the Blind helped with some stuff, but they would not cover the life insurance policy he had taken out on himself. Jack was paying a pretty penny for that policy, but he knew he had to provide for his son until Matt could provide for himself. The fight game was not to be trusted and if Jack could have done anything else to provide a decent life for his boy, he would've. Hell, he would've scrubbed Grand Central Station with his tongue, but there wasn't any call for that. All he could do was fight, so he fought.

When he turned the corner Jack saw Matt and Foggy. Boy, there was a Mutt and Jeff set if he ever saw one. He liked the chunky kid. Hell, he liked anybody Matt liked and Matt acted like he'd found his long lost brother. Still… Jack stopped by the streetlight and really looked at the kids. His boy stood straight and tall, feet together and chin out, just like he was taught. The Nelson kid slouched, if he would just stand up straight and suck in his gut Foggy would look so much better, but he wasn't his Pop, Jack was not going to tell him what to do. It was the battered old pea coat that contrasted to the down jacket and the sneakers in the snow instead of the leather L.L. Bean boots that made Jack almost resent the kid. Foggy had the whole world just handed to him on a silver platter while his boy had to fight so damn hard. Then they both started laughing at some joke. Foggy plopped his hands on Matty's shoulders and threw his head back in uncontained glee. Matt face lit up as he pounded the other boy's sides with his hands. Jack had never seen his son so comfortable with anyone before. This was a good thing.

Jack swung his battered overnight case and marched up to the boys. "What are youse two laughing about?"

"Marci from Memphis," Matt sputtered out and Foggy started chuckling all over again. "There is a girl with her priorities seriously skewed."

"Do I really want to know?"

Both boys grinned and shook their heads.

The Nelsons sent a Cadillac to collect their guests and soon the trio was in East Hampton. Matt sank into the soft leather sofa in the room he was sharing with his Dad while Jack paced round the room. Matt zoned in on his father's strong, steady heart beat. It was the sound that woke him up in the hospital after the accident and was now as familiar to him as any lull a bye. Right now, it was a little fast.

"Dad, how are you feeling?"

"Okay, Matty. This is gonna be great."

"Watch it, Dad. I know when you're lying."

The elder Murdock landed uncomfortably next to his son. "What am I doin' here? Ridin' in the back of this limo, sleepin' in a room bigger than our apartment when I should be trainin' for my next fight? I'm just a broken down palooka wit' nothin' in common wit' these people."

Matt found his father's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Dad, you're just as good as anybody here and you're probably better than most."

"I don't know about that," Jack Murdock said and shook his head. "I can't get you stuff like a big house or a big car."

Matt laughed, "Dad, I never learned how to drive anyway."

That was when Foggy stuck his head through the door. "Dinner's in about half an hour. This will be the last quiet meal before the thundering hordes descend."

"Thundering hordes?" Matt straightened up. He was still working out how the echoes bounced around in this barn of a place. The thought of throwing a crowd of strangers into the mix made his head ache.

"Hey, no fourth cousins twice removed or anything like that, but Poppa Stewart and great Aunt Gracie. They make the place feel like a crowd descended. Grandpa Nelson lives here and he wants to meet you tonight. So be ready to be interrogated over the roast beef." With that, Foggy was gone.

Matt dropped his head on his father's shoulder, "that sounds like loads of fun." He could feel his father laugh before he heard it.

"Sarah, stop fussing." George Edward Nelson batted at his daughter in law's hand as she tried to straighten his tie. "I've been dressing myself since I was four years old and I've hated these damn nooses every day since then."

"Father Nelson, I just want you to look your best." Sarah hands brushed and patted and made sure George looked civilized before she left to tend to dinner.

"And stop calling me Father Nelson, my name is George."

That damn woman seemed determined to have him live to be one hundred and George was already long past any age he had every expected to see. As far as he was concerned, every minute he lived now was gravy, but it would seem like Hell's parlour if he couldn't get a boiler maker. Damn, even a beer would be enough.

Where was Franklin? That boy knew his gramps needed a beer and he hadn't managed to get one for him. Damn, George was going to have to threaten to disinherit the little bastard and then the old man chuckled. Of all his grandchildren the one who didn't give a rat's ass if he got an inheritance was Foggy. Still, he wanted his beer, cold and tart and if the kid didn't get here soon Sarah would show up to force him into that damn wheelchair to get him to dinner. He could damn well get to the damn dining room under his own steam. He was just slow, but give him enough time and he'd get there. A little winded, but he'd get there.

"Gramps," George looked up to see his grandson's hand stuck through the door, waggling a bottle of Black Label like it was bait on a hook.

"Get in here, boy. Don't you know it's cruel to tease an old man?" George smiled widely as Foggy came in with his beer in one hand and a tall red headed kid with his hand on his shoulder close behind him.

"Gramps, here's your mother's milk," he handed the beer to his grandfather, "and here is my roommate, Matt Murdock." Foggy quietly and efficiently guided Matt's hand to the old man's.

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Matt said brightly even though he heard the old man's breathing speed up as he set the beer down.

"Is your father that broken down boxer, Jack Murdock?" Nelson squeezed harder and pulled the boy down to his eye level. "Tell your father to get to get his ass down here before dinner. You got that, boy."

"Yes, sir," Matt tried to free his hand from the iron grip of the seemingly frail old man but George Nelson would not let go. Instead he reached up and took the glasses off Matt's face and examined his milky, scarred eyes.

"I mean it, boy. Get him down here now," and then George Nelson released Matt and turned his back to the boys while he reached once more for his beer.

Less than five minutes elapsed when George heard another knock on the door. "Come in, Murdock."

Jack Murdock pushed open the door and stopped dead in his tracks. Right in front of him sat Georgie the Gimp, one of the nastiest bastards to even control crime in the Kitchen. When he was a young man he had tried to get into the Gimp's stable of boxers, but he never measured up to the standards needed to be taken in. Now, twenty years later he was winning fights and the Gimp was just a bad memory.

"Mr. George, you are the last person I expected ta meet here." Jack tried to keep the smug satisfaction out of his voice.

"Why not… this is my home, this is where I loved my wife, raised my kids and kept out all the shit that I waded through in the city. Sit down, Murdock." Nelson waited until Jack settled in before he continued. "Who is you manager?"

"Sweeney," was the short answer.

"Ah, the Fixer, so every one of those fights was crooked."

"That just ain't true," Jack leaned forward, "I trained hard for each one of them bouts. I ran and sweated and sparred and did what ever it took to be on the top of my game for each an every one of them."

"And you believe that? You are either stupider or more naïve than any man has a right to be."

"I don't need to be insulted, I'm outta here,"

Before Murdock made it to the door Nelson hit him in the only place that mattered.

"Good looking boy you got there, Murdock. I remember hearing about the accident because you were a leg breaker for the Decavalcanti's then, weren't you?"

"My boy don't need to know that. Look, you dried up old son of a bitch, I did the best I could for my boy. He knows I was doin' bad stuff, but ever since the accident I ain't been nothin' but on the up and up. This is all for Matt. What about you? Do your kids know you were a boot legger, a pimp and a loan shark. Foggy's a good kid, what you he think if he knew that this house was built with mob money."

"Neither of those boys needs to know anything about the past. Just do yourself a favour and get out of it while you still can."

"I can't." Jack spread his hands out in silent supplication to George Nelson. "I'm just this here guy from the Kitchen. I never finished grade school 'cause I was running numbers to keep my family fed. You remember that 'cause they was your games. I'm too old to run numbers, so young to collect old age pension and I got a kid who needs a father to look up to."

"Even if that father is a dead man?"

"I'm taking care of that too. No matter what, I'll take care of my boy." With that Battling Jack left George the Gimp and headed back to his room.

The old man gently shook his head, "such a fool, too proud, too stubborn and too damned old. Sounds like me." With that George Nelson finished his beer.


	4. Chapter 4

Meet the Nelsons 04

Matt found his father throwing their clothes into their bags.

"What are you doing?"

"We're gettin' outta here. I knew dis was a mistake. We don't belong wit dese people." Jack turned, grabbed his son's shoulders and tried to speak in an calm and reasonable tone. "We can catch de Long Island Railroad and be back in time for me ta go to de Pathmark and buy a chicken. Ya know a turkey's too much for the two of us. Ya like chicken; I like chicken, who needs turkey."

"Dad, you're cutting off the circulation in my arms." Matt stumbled when his father suddenly let go. He couldn't keep the worry and fear from his voice. "Dad, was it Foggy's grandfather?"

"No, no way," Murdock's heart revved up, telling his son it was George Nelson who made his brave father want to run like hide.

Matt calmed himself before he spoke. "Dad, if this is what you want, I'll do it. Just let me talk to Mr. Nelson and Foggy. Let'em know what's happening. Then I'll get the train schedule and we can be home before midnight." Jack Murdock's heart rate and respiration started to calm down immediately. Whatever had put the fear of God into his father was right here in this house and Matt needed to find out what it was. "The Nelson's seem like good people, I bet they'll understand." 

Foggy jumped when he heard the sharp rap at his bedroom door. Opening that door revealed an upset Matt Murdock running his hand through his hair.

"Matt," Foggy gasped as he grabbed Matt's shoulder and pulled him into the room. "What's the matter?"

Matt shrugged, it didn't even register in his mind that he was being maneuvered to a chair. "Dad is having a fit. He went to see your grandfather and WHAM! I've never seen him like this before, not even when I was in the hospital."

Foggy's head whipped to his nightstand to check his alarm clock; it was almost dinner time. "Listen, nobody is going anywhere right this minute. There isn't another train to Penn Station 'til tomorrow morning." He looked at his blind friend and smirked. "I know you'd look real pathetic sticking out your thumb and hitchhiking back to the city. It might just work but it isn't something your Dad would do." That got Matt to smile so Foggy continued, "Come on, we'll let my Dad know what's going on. Maybe he can talk some sense into yours."

Jack Murdock had both bags packed and was dialing the Long Island Rail Road to get the time for the next train back to the city when he heard a knock at the door. He twisted his head round to see Edward Nelson come into the room and then turned back to the meager luggage on the bed. 

"Jack, you haven't even had dinner tonight, surely the thought of our turkey tomorrow isn't sending you into a panic."

Jack grudgingly faced to Nelson, hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt.

"I'm sorry, but I'm outta place here. I was thinkin' that maybe me and Mattie needed to have one more holiday just ourselves, ya know, cause when I win the title we ain't gonna have no privacy no more."

"So you talked to my father."

"Nyah, your old man had nothin' ta do wit' this."

Edward slowly shook his head. "Come on Jack, your boy is having a good time here. He's Franklin's best friend and they seem to be good for each other. I promise to take good care of your boy if you leave him here."

Jack dropped heavily on the bed. Matt had never had a holiday, let alone one like this. All he could do was to nod his head in agreement."

"You know what would make this even better for Matt," Nelson rose and put his hand on Murdock's shoulder. "That would be if you stayed with him."

Jack sighed, "I'm only doing this for my boy."

"That man is one scary old bastard." Nelson collapsed into the sofa.

Jack gaped at him.

"I know who my father is and what my father is. There's nothing you can tell me I haven't heard before."

Jack gave up any pretense of ignoring the man and sat heavily on the bed. "Your old man said I was a punk and a bum, no, don't interrupt 'cause basically he's right." Jack gazed down at his misshapen fingers. "A smart man knows when he should get outta the game, but I got nothin' else I can do that's got any chance of takin' care of my boy."

He stood up and motioned toward mirrored closet doors, the heavy furniture and the thick carpets. "I can't give my boy nothin' like dis. When he got hurt he was in a charity bed in a second rate hospital. I hadda carry him home, up four flights of stairs, when they kicked him out ta make room for more charity cases." 

"You love your son." It was a statement, not a question.

"Can't help it," Jack smiled for the first time since Nelson walked in, "he's a good kid."

Edward Nelson looked at Jack Murdock with increased admiration. This semi-articulate man had put into words the depth of his love for his son.

"I'm not asking you to tell me what my father said or to do anything he asked you to, but I am asking you to take a good hard look at Georgie the Gimp. He's an old gangster whose out lived his power and his peers and his family only comes to visit when we have to show up. Frankly, I can barely stand to be in the same room as the man." Nelson stood up and extended his hand to Jack "Please stay. Your son makes my son very happy and the two of you make this place bearable. Come on, Mr. Murdock, we'll do it for our sons."

Murdock gave in. "Ya got me where it hurts, okay, for our sons."

"Well, tomorrow is turkey day," Foggy moaned as he lead to Matt to dinner. "If you think this is high drama wait until then. All the cousins will hide in the den and all the aunts and uncles will sit around and look like they're being forced to eat arsenic and Grandpa will pretend we are just one big happy family."

"Well, if nothing else, you've got a big family." Matt couldn't help sounding jealous.

"Hey, I got an idea, let's blow this joint and go somewhere nice, like Rykers Island or Sing Sing." He stopped in front of the dining room door. "Matt, I'm sorry about this. Usually holidays here are pretty cool, I don't know what happened this time."

Both Matt and Foggy heard the deep rumble of men laughing behind them.

"Dad?" they exclaimed simultaneously.

Jack Murdock and Edward Nelson both looked up; smiled and Jack actually elbowed Nelson in the ribs. "Speak of the devil," he said.

Sarah Nelson stuck her head out of the dining room and sighed in relief. "There you are… Candace, Father Nelson and I have been waiting for over fifteen minutes for you to show up. The roast beef is so over done its shoe leather."

"Don't call me Father Nelson, damn it. My name is George," the petulant whine from behind them hurt their teeth.

Sarah rolled her eyes as the men filed past her to the table. George fixed his hard eyes on Jack, daring the man to say something to him.

"Mrs. Nelson, ya couldn't do anyting but perfection." Jack Murdock smiled his first genuine smile since he had arrived. "Ed here was tellin' me how hard you was working ta make everything perfect for tomorrow."

Sarah Nelson blushed, "it's nothing, having you and your son here is a pleasure."

'Banter,' a smile spread across Matt's face as he heard his father banter with the Nelsons. He was putting on his Battlin' Jack Murdock persona and charming Foggy's mom and dad. Once more his heartbeat was strong and steady as he wrapped his arm around Matt's shoulder and seated himself at the centre of the action around the table. Tipping his head to the right Matt could hear Candace Nelson giggle when his father kissed her hand.

"Your Dad's not having a fit now; is he," Foggy's aside was meant for only Matt's ears.

"I don't know what your dad said, but it must have been something."

"Boys," Jack Murdock's voice stopped them cold. "It ain't polite ta whisper at the table. If ya got something to say, just say it."

Foggy Nelson looked around the table. His parents were relaxed and his sister had dropped her perpetual teen disaffection to join in the fun. Grandpa was being, well, Grandpa; but if you ignored him he would shut up soon. And as for Matt, his best friend, the guy positively glowed. If things went like this the rest of the weekend might end up being a good time.

"Well," he spoke up, "I guess all I have to say is I'm sorry and pass the mashed potatoes… please."

Fin


End file.
